Chapter 17: Getting over it

She drove faster than a lightning bolt swung across the sky. She banged her head into the headrest on her seat, cursing and swearing that Peter Cunningham had not been able to keep Matthew for longer. The media had been around but it was like a blanket had been stuffed in their mouths and what they focused on mostly was the statement given by Gabriel Darklighter. A great man was being held unjustifiably on false accusations, and a pretty chief inspector was trying to buy more time.

Now, a dinner invitation had been dropped at her with her name on it, signed in red ink, and with the address of the mansion on it. At the same time the thoughts came to her: "What if he really did it? What about those children? What are you thinking: he's your main suspect in this!"

There was no telling how long she debated with herself, whether to call back and say that she unfortunately had had other plans, that a family member had just passed and she had to go and be with her relatives, anything which would prevent her from going there.

But she did not. She came straight into the office. Then she sat down at her desk and felt like crying.

Not only did she hate herself for not being able to place something directly at the mansion and this man, to get the warrant she wanted, but she also hated that her feelings had begun to intervene with her investigation. She was about to reach for her phone and call her superiors to take her off the case when it rang shrilly. She jumped in her seat and tried to calm her beating heart. Another ring was enough, and she took it with a hand trembling from adrenaline.

"Chief inspector Lynne Wright?"

"Good day, miss Wright, my name is Raymond Carlstein, reporter on the magazine Metaphysics Today."

Lynne was at a loss. What did he want? "Yes, what can I do for you Mr. Carlstein?" Funny name, his accent was definitely foreign but no grammar errors meant that he had been around the English language for some time.

"I'm doing some research on the Darklighter family, in which you are currently involved, or so my information claims," the man at the other end said. "I was wondering if we could meet? I have some information you might be interested in."

"Of course. Come down to the station, and we could talk."

"I would really like for us to talk more privately... Perhaps over a cup of tea?"

She considered the legal implications, but found it would probably be okay. "That could be a possibility." She hesitated. "What exactly is your interest in the Darklighter family?"

"It's purely of the fantastical kind, Miss Wright," Raymond assured her. "My editors praise a good tale now and then, and the Darklighter family lives on grounds dating back to the 10th century. They say it is a haunted place, both the forest and the mansion itself. I could give you some details on their family account, if it could help your investigation, and you could perhaps give me some information about the area and the house."

"Indeed." She frowned however. This sounded too stupid. "Are you in town today?"

"No, unfortunately. I'm in Paris at a conference right now, but I can make it to London tomorrow morning and catch a train in your direction. Let's say afternoon tea?"

"Perfect." She scribbled it down.

"Let's meet at your station, and then we'll take it from there."

"Good idea," she said.

"Thank you for your time."

"You too. Goodbye."

She hung up and leaned back with her hand still resting on the phone. What on earth was going on?

"Having trouble?"

She turned around sharply in the chair to see Thomas, who gave a laugh at her startled face.

"Sorry, did I interrupt some important track of thoughts?"

"No, no, not really." She tossed a strand of hair out of her face.

"Would you care to join me for some lunch? There's a good place just across the street and I'm having my half hour break now," he said. She glanced at the clock. Half past two and she had not eaten breakfast yet. Despite that, she did not really feel hungry but agreed anyway.

"Sure," she shrugged and rose, grabbing her bag and walking with him out of the station towards a little sandwich bar. They slipped in and lined up.

"So, these Darklighters are really giving you a headache?" he asked while searching the menu for something interesting.

"Yeah, they are, in more than one way," Lynne massaged her temples. Her headache was increasing by the minute. Thomas surveyed her closely.

"They do that to everyone... Are you alright?" he asked.

"I think I need a pair of aspirin if I have to work more today, that's all," she said. "Also, I've been invited to dinner at their place."

Thomas' eyes widened. "Seriously?" he asked and blinked. "That... that's well, that's both awesome and strange. I mean... the entire family?"

"Yes, I think that's what he said," Lynne replied, but was cut off when she had to order her sandwich with roast chicken and bacon. They sat down at a table and unpacked the meal.

"So, it's not something you're looking forward to?" he asked with his mouth full.

"I don't know," Lynne shrugged as she brushed off her hands before taking a sip of her diet coke. "The man's astounding, he's a real mystery to me, but I'm not sure I want to know more about him. He seems like... there's something outright wrong, and yet he's so perfect. Nobody could be like him, nobody. Like an artificial human, or even a live doll. I don't know how to explain it other than... he's creepy and extremely interesting." Her voice died away and she looked awkwardly at Thomas. He blinked and took a gulp of his coffee.

"Have you considered calling Peter?" he asked. "Take you off the case."

"I have, but then I was distracted. I want to see what's going on tonight, and if I get nothing substantial out of it, I'll call him. If I find something useful, I'll proceed."

"Sounds like a plan to me," Thomas shrugged, and they ate the rest of their lunch in silence.

The rest of the day, she read the reports from the team which had searched the forest and found the ribbon. There was no other trace. It was as if the girls had vanished into the thin air, lifted off the ground and carried away by abductors with wings. It was just plain ridiculous. It made no sense what so ever.

She went home, and pondered these mysteries as she took a shower and prepared for the dinner. What on earth was she going to wear? She opened her closet and looked around for something decent. It was hard to tell what the expected dress-code was. A family dinner at the Darklighters'. It seemed too far-fetched. He was a well-reputed man among the high-class, and there was no doubt that his style and lofty appearance always made an impression on his surroundings, but inviting a common chief inspector to a dinner, that was surely extraordinary.

Surreal.

Also, she thought about the call she had got, the man Raymond Carlstein. If she had to give him any useful information in exchange for something which could help her, she would need to be cautious and ask the right questions to get the right answers. However, it seemed it was hard to get a useful response out of this Darklighter. And then there was his family. Of those, she had only met his son, and he seemed just as lofty as his father, if not more. A cocky, spoiled fashion addict, adorning the front pages of several gossip magazines.

She found a dark dress, purple satin with halter neck and slim fit. It was back from a ball some years ago. She had never worn it since, but she had liked it none the less and never parted from it. She put it on, fixed her hair and found a small hand-bag to hold her lipstick, car keys, and the little mobile she had acquired for work. Just in case.

Just in case.

She locked the door and hurried down, glancing at her watch. Half past six. Well-coordinated. She found her car, got in, allowed the engine to purr as the ignition kicked in, and she slipped out and away from her beloved home, the little house on St. Andrew's Drive.

All the way to the mansion, she was pondering what on earth she was doing. This was the strangest way a case had ever evolved in her career. On the other hand, as Thomas had said, the Darklighters could give anyone a headache. But still, no matter where she sought in her mind, she could find no explanation to the disappearance of the two girls, and it bothered her constantly. No evidence to link to Mr. Darklighter, and therefore no plausible reason for a search warrant. She told this to herself, and she knew the feeling she had had in the waiting room was not just the usual paranoia of being in an unknown house. There was something... creepy in the house. Not just the man, but the house itself seemed alive and ready to swallow you in one mouthful.

She arrived at the gate leading into the forest. The same guards as before greeted her and she was let in. She did not like the look of the mansion by day, and by night it was even more sinister. The dark vines entangled the façade at the bottom. She looked up as she stepped out of the car. Lights were on in some of the windows, a dim, amber golden light, like fiery eyes looking out into the darkness. How many floors were there? Three or five? And yet inside, the entrance hall was enormous, big enough to fill the entire building in itself. Yet, it still seemed there were more floors. How could a small - and she said small about this one?! - mansion hold such a great hall inside, and still have room for more floors? The place became more and more mysterious.

She ascended the steps where the elderly lady opened the door, again before she had a chance to knock the door.

"Welcome, my dear, the Lord is expecting you," she said with a soft voice and a smile. Were her canines not a bit too pointy or was that just her imagination from seeing too many fancy horror movies?

"Thank you," she said and stepped inside, allowing her coat to slip into the hands of the maid. She looked to her right as she heard voices, and saw now the door, which had been closed on both of the earlier occasions she had been there, was open. She walked slowly closer and looked into a little, square room, with few bits of furniture. She could see a lacquered bureau, a pair of portraits, and by two windows stood two chairs, between them a little table, covered by a lace cloth, with a small vase - again the black roses were somewhat grotesque but gorgeous. Perhaps because she was used to red roses?

There was a small gathering of people in there. The young man she had seen earlier was chatting with a young girl with a lean face, auburn coloured hair, and clad in a green dress. Beside them, stood a young woman, not much above thirty years old, clad in a very daring, dark red dress. The jewels she wore were literally waterfalls of diamonds around her wrist, from her earlobes, and on her fingers. The necklace was just as astounding, its strands of silver-fitted diamonds falling over the voluminous top of her breasts. At her side stood an elderly man, fifty years of age probably. His hair was silvery white, thick, but clearly a sign of age, as well as a lined face, marked but strong. He was low, sturdy and well-built, clad in a dark suit with almost invisible green embroidery of ivy vines and snakes entangled. A silver chain in his left chest pocket belonged to an old-fashioned pocket watch. Also he held a thin, black cane at his side with a silver knob, shaped like the head of a bear and the head of a wolf gaping over each other's jaws.

They all fell silent and turned as she stepped out of the doorway with a nervous smile. Their eyes startled her. The three of them had green eyes; the boy's were cold green, the two women's were warmer with streaks of brown, while the white-haired man's eyes were grey and clear, like a chilly mountain top clad in ice and snow.

"G-good evening," she murmured. The woman clad in red approached to greet her with a beaming smile.

"Ah, welcome darling, have you been kept waiting? Don't you mind Arianna, she's always trying to coordinate things by the book, but that wouldn't leave any fun in life, would it?" she said with a thick, American accent. She grabbed Lynne by the arm, the red nails dug slightly into her skin as she was pulled, rather insistently, towards the others. The young girl greeted her with a smile too, though it was slightly reserved. The two men did not seem to share the same optimism for their guest. Although the young one seemed to smile, it was the same drawl as it had been previously. And the old man seemed not to smile at all; instead there was a slight sneer at the corner of his lips.

"Have you been introduced properly?" she asked. Lynne shook her head, the nervous smile flickering on her lips. She did not know what to do or say about the awkward situation.

"My name is Isobel. This is Gabriel, he's the son of Matthew Darklighter," the woman gestured at Gabriel who very offhandedly shook Lynne's hand.

"Pleasure," he said with a short grin which returned to the drawl again. Lynne merely smiled. His hand was so cold to the touch. So was Isobel's hand.

"That's Rachel, my daughter," Isobel went on and Rachel and Lynne exchanged a handshake with no more than a smile. "And this is Vladimir." She ended at the white-haired man. Lynne was about to extend her hand to take his, but something told her that this man would not have accepted it under any circumstances; she allowed her fingers to fumble with the handbag instead.

"Hello," she tried. A quiet snort and a scowl was all she got in return.

A silent cough was heard behind them, and they all turned to see Matthew enter. Behind him stood a tall and rather massive man, not a body-builder type, but he was definitely not someone to plays tricks with, clad entirely in a black suit and he wore sunglasses (at night?).

"Ah, our guest has arrived," Matthew said, smiling. The man behind him was silent as the grave. "Is Isobel giving you a name lecture?"

"She is, indeed." Lynne tried to put up the same façade as she did at work, but being among these strange creatures, for people she would not call them, prevented her from doing so.

They all had the same air as she had seen Matthew have on her first meeting with him. Like they were part of a picture in a far-away place, and they had been cut out and put into a different world. But no matter how much her mind tried to work it out, it tried to describe them just as unearthly as angels, there was nothing angelic about them. Their presence was sinister. Their eyes alone were enough to point out the fact that she was not among humans anymore.

But how could that be?! Her mind was going crazy! Every rational thought was blotted out by these feelings and interpretations. She had always relied on her instincts and her instincts told her all these strange signals that she interpreted, but what the message remained was just plain bullocks.

Her track of thoughts was distracted by the clear ringing of a bell. Matthew looked around at each of them with a smile.

"Dinner is served," he said, and as he went up to a door at the other end of the room, he led Lynne along with him and the others followed without a word. They entered the great dining hall with a long table in the middle and a high chair at the end, without doubt the lord's seat. The table was beautifully set with silverware and shimmered in the light from a big chandelier. At the end of the table, another huge fireplace was lit and the flames crackled playfully, but before Lynne could get a better look at her surroundings, a gust of wind blew through the dining hall, the candles flickered violently and the door to the little front room slammed shut.

"Everything should be perfectly arranged, Thomas."

"Thank you, my Lord. Is she...?"

"She is. Shade dumped her in the ruins."

"Terrific. I'll fix the reports and get my men out there to drag her out of the water."

"Just say she fell or tripped, looking for clues. I'll make sure you'll be appointed the case."

"That's very kind of you, my Lord."

"Do you know anything about any recent phone calls for her?"

"A Raymond Carlstein."

"By the Darkness."

"Is he a threat?"

"He's a field investigator for S.M.E."

"What shall I do about him? They seem to have arranged a meeting tomorrow."

"I'll put somebody on his tail; make sure his every move is covered. Also... I need you to do something for me."

"Anything, my Lord."

"Your lab has samples of -" light cough "- inappropriately delicate details of DNA. I believe it was a ribbon the samples had been taken of."

"I'll eliminate it right away."

"Good, Thomas. I'm glad I can trust you on this."

"All the way, Lord Darklighter, all the way."

"Goodnight to you. Darkness bless you, my son."

"And may it be your Darkness, my Lord."

At noon the following day, Raymond Carlstein stepped into the police station. He felt misplaced, but none the less headed for the reception where he asked for Miss Wright. He learned that she had not checked in yet but that the receptionist would call one of her colleagues to see him in. He was told to wait in the reception area on those hard plastic chairs which had been ruined once or twice their life already due to violent visitors.

He sat down and waited, memorizing his breath routine, listening to his heart. He was calm, he was at peace. He was as much human as he was a part of this room and-

"Mr. Carlstein?" a voice asked. He looked up and saw a young man, probably around thirty years old approach.

"Yes?" he rose clutching his brown suitcase.

"You're here to see Miss Wright?"

"Yes, yes, I am. Who are you?" Raymond asked. The young man took his hand.

"My name is Thomas Rolando, Miss Wright's assistant," Thomas explained. "If you'd care to come this way." Raymond looked uncomprehending at the young officer but followed without question. They were led into an interrogation room and the door was closed. Raymond looked around uneasy. He did not like the feel of the situation. Breathe in, breathe out.

"You haven't heard, have you?" Thomas asked as he gestured to the seat opposite the little table between them.

"Heard what?" Raymond snapped and his eyes narrowed into two small slits not caring about the chair.

"Miss Wright. She's dead. She fell into the lake at Darklighter Mansion during an investigation. She was discovered this morning by one of the residents of the house," Thomas explained quietly. Raymond stiffened, trying not to show too much excitement with the news, as he slowly sat down.

"But how?! That's terrible!" he exclaimed.

"Indeed it is. Now, I understand you had arranged to meet with her today," said Thomas. "What was the subject for your meeting?"

"I... I was... she'd promised me some details on the grounds surrounding the Darklighter Mansion. I... I had promised her in return to shed some light on the family history now that she dealt with them during this case."

"Now, where would you know more about that family than themselves? They invited her for dinner last night, they could have told her themselves."

"So... she was there? Was it them? Did they drown her?!" Raymond realized the words had spilled before he had been thinking. Thomas' eyes narrowed.

"Nothing points in that direction. Her car was found outside the mansion, parked in a field not far from the hole in the wall where the two disappeared girls had entered the area. It is clear that she had got a lead or an idea when she'd gotten home. I, for one, received a phone call from her mobile phone at half past two but I couldn't make out a word she was saying."

"Well, surely you must investigate those Darklighters! They're in it, I swear to God!"

"Swear all you like, Mr. Carlstein; I'd just like to know what you exactly were up to arranging that meeting today."

"Nothing... special. I just wanted to fill her in on the facts about the family."

"She'd already looked those up, Mr. Carlstein. What makes your information more reliable?"

"I... well, I... let me just say that my sources are completely reliable."

Thomas bent over the table. "Who are your sources?" he asked and his face was no longer kind or welcoming. Carlstein froze.

"So... you're one of them too!" he hissed and suddenly pulled the suitcase closer to his chest. "I'll say nothing and you'll get nothing from me!" he rose abruptly and stormed toward the door, but Thomas was the faster and blocked the way. Raymond backed a few steps. "You can't hurt me while I'm here, you can't hurt me while you're at the station!" he demanded and looked around to see if any cameras recorded the scene: there were none, unfortunately. How convenient.

"No, but you'd better know that we're watching your back now," Thomas replied with an icy cold voice. "And whoever your sources are, you'd better tell them to run and run fast!"

He moved out of the way and allowed Raymond to hasten out of the door and leave the police station faster than his short legs could carry him. At least, Thomas thought, he had succeeded in putting the GPS-chip into Raymond's pocket, allowing it to trace him wherever he went. A fine invention those things were. He had to praise Patrick and Marek next time he visited the mansion.